


The Most Queer Sort of Love

by chartamincinere



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21685357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chartamincinere/pseuds/chartamincinere
Relationships: Queen Holland/Queen Linden





	1. Coronation Day

"Lani, come on, you know your dad hates when you're late to royal events!"

I roll my eyes, waiting if she'll say more. When she doesn't, I start snapping the clasps shut on my outfit. Taking my time, I turn and grab a few accessories, slowing down to insert the earrings.

"Holland Chantel! Come down here now! We're already late and apparently your girlfriend isn't helping motivate you! Hurry up!"

I glance down the grand staircase and see my father, looking regal as ever. Beside him stands my mother, displaying worry instead of her usual small smile and tired eyes. Then off to the side, standing on the opposite side of the stairs, I see her. Linden, my adorable fiancée. She places herself out of my gaze, only visible in my peripheral. I finally get the button on the back of my dress in place, tuck my tags, and I began to descend the stairwell. And no, I know what you're thinking. I didn't fall. 

The only reason why, is because Linden caught me. She helps me regain my footing, and right then and there, she takes my hand and we begin our walk into our kingdom. For the first time in our kingdom's millennia-long reign, there will be two queens. Two powerful women, taking the country by storm, and loving each other every second of the day.

——

Walking through the marketplace, I grasp Linden's hand in mine. I hear my titles being thrown around like a common conversation. Linden pulls me away from the fruit stands in the back, and we circle our way back around.  
"Princess Holland!" "Lady Livingston!" "Your Majesties, please!" Linden covers her face, shying away from her future titles. I embrace her, and spin her around.  
We've stopped in the middle of the seamstresses, who eagerly await my next move. I reach behind Lindy and snatch a piece of silk from the booth. "Miss?" I hear the woman call my attention. Swinging my hair around, I rest my eyes upon the seamstress. I raise my eyebrow, and she gives me a 'I'll help if needed' sort of look. I look back at Lindy and tap her shoulder. She flings her head back to glance at me. I offer her the silk sample I picked up. "I know you don't like green, so I was thinking maybe an orange, red, ooh! What about magenta?" Linden smiles down at me, shaking her head softly. 

"You'd look rather enchanting in a cool tone, Lani. Pick out a lavender or cerulean for yourself, and I can find a brighter material - not that I don't like yours, ladies," she says with an embarrassed chuckle, "but I prefer a stiffer fabric, something not so free-flowing."  
Linden places the silk back on the shorter seamstress's booth, and takes my hand again.  
She mumbles a quick thank you to the women, and we begin walking again. 

"You know, since my family is part-Hawaiian, I figured we could incorporate something of it into my coronation." I gesture to the flower stands, picking out orange day-lilies and yellow ʻilima blooms. The lady attending the booth, a young girl hardly of age, begins lifting the flowers I touch and placing them in a bouquet. Linden smiles at her, her eyes becoming softer towards the girl. She separates her hand from mine, and walks to the counter. The girl looks startled, as if fearing a punishment for doing something wrong. Instead, Lindy takes her hand, soothes her and begins naming more flowers she knows I like. 

I go my own way and begin weaving through stands and people, the waves of bodies parting before me. A child stands in front of me, not paying attention to anyone else. He finishes paying for whatever it is he bought, and turns on his heel. He collides with my chest, and turns a very embarrassed shade of red. "Sorry, Your Highness. I wasn't paying attention, I'll be more careful next time." I nod at the kid, nudging him along the old path off to the side of the booths. The boy's father, who had been watching from afar, promptly follows the boy and scolds him. I laugh to myself, mystified by everyone's opinion of me. Walking a piece down the side path, I stop in front of a beaten down stand with one attendant. A fragile old lady, carving out gourds and forming knives out of sharpened rocks. A primitive form of art, I recognize it from the prior month's art lesson. I glance about the space, my eyes caught on a dreamcatcher in bright colors. 

"I'd let you have it, Your Highness, but it's the last thing I have left of my family. It's been passed through generations, back from before the Battle of Andrith. My grandparents used to tell me stories, gah, I was such a naïve child. Now, this is what I do everyday. Hardly anyone stops, so thank you, Princess."  
My face flushes at being addressed so formally by this withered elder woman. I stutter, vocalizing but not forming words. She grins at me, waving her hand. "Don't worry, I'm not respected by anyone. I hear the tots babbling about how wicked I am. They think I'm like their fairytale books." 

She turns her gaze back to her work. "Don't let me keep you, I'm sure those twin brothers of yours will show up any second now." By forces unknown, they do appear, peeking around the columns of the upper class homes. The taller one of the two, my little brother Lyon, begins strolling towards me, Kiev scurrying behind him. I bid my farewell to the woman, and meet the boys halfway along the path. 

"Mother says she wants you and your little bi-!"  
Kiev slaps his hand over his older brother's mouth. Lyon stares him down, until he removes his hand. Wiping at his face, he barks an order to the shorter twin. "Kiev, please go back to the balcony and tell Mother and Sofia that Holland won't be joining us." Lyon smirks, glancing at me, his eyes going up, then wandering down.  
"They're too busy kissing and holding hands to ever do anything useful. Tch," he starts, "you two are disgusting. Frankly, anyone would fit in your position better. Especially myself." Lyon meets my eyes, then places his hand on his brother's shoulder, pushing him toward the palace. Ever the obedient daughter, my little sister comes down the path, right as the twins turn the corner.

"Holly! Mama wants you home, pronto! She says you got 'sponsibilities to take care of!"  
I wave her off, making a motion for her to turn around. Before I start the trek to find Linden and head home, the old lady yells from behind me.  
"Your Majesty, I suggest you keep a very close eye of that brother of yours. There are so many citizens like you and your girlie, I'd hate to see him ruin everyone's happiness."


	2. Authoritative Argument

After the meeting is over, I immediately head out of the room. My mom peeks her head out of the large consultation room.

"Holland. Come here."

I sigh and turn around to go back inside. I see Lyon drag Kiev away, while staring me dead in the eye. In turn, I grab his arm, separating Lyon and Kiev and hauling Lyon into the room. Kiev stands at the doorway, never one to be too far from his other half. 

"Kiev tells me you've been yelling at him and Lyon. You know we want this family to be happy. What's going on?" My mother looks at my necklace, a present from last year.

"Your son is the problem in this equation. Every time you send him to find me, he lies about what I've said, and he frequently berates me and Linden. For example, when you sent him into town a few hours ago, he lied saying I wouldn't come, and then proceeded to tell me that my relationship was disgusting and that lesbians like myself are not suited for life!"  
Finally done ranting, I take a deep breath and twist my grip around Lyon's arm. He yelps and pulls away, rubbing the red area. Mom scowls, and goes to walk towards Lyon. I swiftly block her, beginning again. "See! I understand he's younger, but he still needs to take responsibility! He's a bratty, pretentious asshole of a brother and I won't take it!"

"Holland Chantel! How dare you call your brother those names! Apologize this instant." I can practically see the smoke coming out of her ears.

"No, Mom- I mean, Mother, I don't think I will. If he doesn't know his own family's opinion of him, he'll go about life being a stuck-up son of a bitch and he won't care! You've got to teach him right from wrong, because you haven't yet and I understood by the time I was 6! He has to be accountable or he will not make it in my kingdom. That's final." I huff, blowing away a stray strand of hair.

Mother folds her hands primly, turns, and points at the boys. "Lyon, is she telling the truth? I can and will pry the truth from Kiev if needed." She disapprovingly on the twins, Kiev squirming under her glare. Lyon, every the cunning one, looks down, looks in his peripheral at his brother, and turns back to ny mother. "Yes. She is telling the truth."

All of a sudden, the Queen Mother flies into a rage. Berating him, telling him off, everything I can imagine. He deserves it, after all. Sofia finally hops down from her place near the head of the table, and I take her hand, leading her out of the room and down the long corridor.

"Holly, why's Mama yelling at them?" Sofia's innocent little eyes work up to match mine, her face inquiring just as much as her question. 

"Because," I explain, "they were saying some very nasty things about Lindy and me. Calling us gross, and all sorts of stuff. You know how you like it when she colors with you, and braids your hair," Sofia shakes her head to watch her hair sway at her knees, then nods in answer, " Well, the twins don't like her that much, and they don't like that I'm in love with her." Her little face scrunches up, and her mouth falls open.

"But Holly, why? They probably love someone too, why do they want bad stuff for you. You know what," she sticks a single finger in front of her, "I'll wish some bad luck on them. And you know, they never live on their own! They're always attached... what's the thing Mama calls them?" I stop walking, and Sofia stops too.

"First of all, she says they're attached at the hip, you know, like conjoined twins. Like, oh, like the Xiamen brothers! They literally are attached. That's how they were born." Sofia's head rattles for a moment, then she looks up. Her mouth moves silently, and I can't tell what she's saying. Her eyes slide from the ceiling to mine, finished with her prayer. "Sofi, girly, what was that about?"

"I don't think they'll live long. Not wishing bad luck on them! Not at all, but they just don't look happy or healthy." I nod, because they do look quite sick after she mentioned it. "And I just got this weird feeling, like they might get really sick, or, you know," she makes a motion over her eyes, marking x's. My mouth opens, then closes, because yes, what's she's saying makes sense. "So you were praying for them?"

Sofia turns her head, looking back at the doorway to my office. "Uh, yeah, sure, hey Holly let's go play!" She pulls her wrist out of my grip, and skips into the office. I leap ip after her, walking as fast as possible to my doorway. My mom, though had different plans.

"Holland, come back in here. I need to resume our conversation." She taps her foot expectantly. I gesture inside my office, where Sofia giggles and I just get a stronger glare in return. "Fine. Fine. I'm on my way." She turns back into the conference room. I find Sofia, and give her a stare. She shrugs and waves me off. 

I finally return to the room's doorway. The twins are sitting down, as is my mother. Oh no. Oh god. What's going on. She motions for me to take a seat. I shake my head. She just points at the seat more insistently. I again say no. She accepts my answer and begins talking. "Holland, the boys tell me you've been bullying them, and restricting them from doing their usual habits. Do you have an argument?" Kiev and Lyon both spare a glance, watching as my face turns pink. "Yes, ma'am, I do. Two, in fact. One, I'm older. Are you seriously going to listen to them? Second, most everything 'they' say is just Lyon, and we all know he's a lying little ass. End of discussion. Now, if you will, I have work and no time to be caught up in petty squabbles." And with that, I spin on my heel.


End file.
